Salve

Black laced sky
swallowing itself
as the Ouroboros
devours another season

Spring has come
and gone
leaving a harvest
of fruition in its wake

Sun primed and ready
to lift its fiery head
on high
in a Summer Solstice rise

Ash to ash
dust to dust
these worries
are washed away in the flames

Lay down and rest
the sorrow is over
light is a salve
of new beginnings

Scott Thomas Outlar spends the hours flowing and fluxing with the ever-changing currents of the Tao River. Basically what that means is living a simple life in the suburbs outside of Atlanta where he passes the days writing, reading, walking, meditating, and generally concerning himself with what the next word on the current page should be.
He has been writing a weekly poem at Dissident Voice since 2014, and has also had work appear in venues such as Yellow Chair Review, Harbinger Asylum, The First Line, Poetry Quarterly, Dead Snakes, and The Poet Community. Links to his chapbook and other work can be found on his blog at 17numa.